


Distinctly A Modern Art

by sophia_sol



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Food equals love, Home Canning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_sol/pseuds/sophia_sol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles always sleeps in on Saturday mornings, because he feels it is an unfair imposition of societal norms on his life that he has to rise early every single weekday. This Saturday, like most, Derek is already long gone from bed. Stiles wakes slowly, yawning and stretching and luxuriating in the free day ahead of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distinctly A Modern Art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/gifts).



> "#can we have sterek fic with home canning?#just... because?" Verity asked. YES WE CAN.
> 
> Written very fast and late at night, unbeta'd, minorly edited by me in the cold light of morning.
> 
> Title is a quote from a Lippicott's Home Manual from 1917, "Successful Canning and Preserving."

Stiles always sleeps in on Saturday mornings, because he feels it is an unfair imposition of societal norms on his life that he has to rise early every single weekday. This Saturday, like most, Derek is already long gone from bed. Stiles wakes slowly, yawning and stretching and luxuriating in the free day ahead of him.

Eventually he decides it would be worth his time to kick himself out of bed and go find out what Derek is up to this morning. Scratching his head with one hand and still blinking around the sleep in his eyes, he wanders down the stairs wearing nothing but his boxers. He finds Derek in the kitchen, with a pot of boiling water on the stove and several cardboard baskets of peaches beside him. There are rows of empty pint jars sitting upside down on a tea-towel by the sink, glistening with a few last drops of drying water.

"Morning," Stiles yawns.

Derek turns, a slotted spoon in one hand and a peach in the other. There's a small smile on his face, softness in his eyes. Stiles grins and feels a little more awake. It's been years and he's still not over how goddamn _adorable_ a Derek in love is.

Stiles, grabbing the cheerios box from on top of the fridge and settling down on one of the kitchen stools, says, "Whatcha up to?" He stuffs a handful of cheerios in his mouth and begins to crunch.

"Canning peaches," says Derek. He turns back to the pot on the stove and begins to carefully drop peaches into it. "Blanching the peaches first though, so they'll be easier to skin."

Stiles nods thoughtfully and swallows his mouthful of cheerios. "Cool. I'll look forward to eating them."


End file.
